It's Because of Him
by JarethGirl30028
Summary: Re-posted after it was taken down due to violation of FFN rules. Rated M for language. Hermione gets an unexpected surprise at her birthday party, in the form of her not-boyfriend Ronald Weasley and a surprisingly sexy Draco Malfoy.


**AN: PLEASE READ! This story got removed because there was a swear word in the description, and I've been meaning to put it back up. I made a few minute changes, including fixing all of the errors I could find. It's staying a one-shot this time, unless I feel the urge to finish it. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to the people who reviewed the original story, I'm sorry it was deleted. **

* * *

Hermione Granger was in a state of panic. She had been pacing in her room at the burrow for the past thirteen minutes, trying to find a way to get out of this party.

True, it was her birthday, and she hadn't thought she'd make it through the war to _have _another birthday, so this was a rather big deal for her and her friends, but if she was completely honest with herself, she really _really _didn't want to go to this party. It started in twenty-seven minutes, and she was still in her pyjamas, her hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. She was sure that if she came up with a good enough excuse, she wouldn't have to go.

"Hermione!" Ginny's voice called, and Hermione emitted a small shriek, diving into her bed. She yanked the covers up to her chin and put on a feeble voice.

"Come in," she choked, coughing weakly. Ginny approached her, eyes narrowed, and jerked the covers away from Hermione, who groaned and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress.

"Ginny, I don't want to go. _Please _don't make me."

"It's your party, Hermione! You have to go! It's for you!"

"But Ginny!" Hermione pleaded, "I don't want to go!"

Ginny ignored her and began pulling things out of the small, beaded bag that had come in handy so much during the last year. Hermione simply gaped at Ginny as she threw dress after dress onto the ground; an enormous pile of shiny, colorful fabric soon sat on the floor next to Ginny, who was sticking her hand into the bag so far it was up to her shoulder.

"Aha!" Ginny exclaimed, pulling out something bright red, black, and - Hermione shuddered - glittering. Ginny shook it out and showed it to Hermione, who stared at it for a moment before burtsing into laughter. She wiped away tears of mirth as Ginny tapped her foot impatiently.

"Come on, put it on. The party starts in a few minutes, and everyone is expecting you to be there. And you are _going _to be there, even if I have to Imperio you."

Hermione's jaw dropped as Ginny took a step toward her, a glare on her face. She thrusted the dress in Hermione's hands, and whipped out her wand, pointing it at Hermione's trunk, vanishing all of the clothes in it.

"Ginny!" Hermione shrieked furiously, jumping to her feet. She lunged for the pile of clothes on the floor, but Ginny just smirked.

"They're all like the dress you're holding. By all means, pick something different. I approve of all of those, but the one you're holding is my favorite. Now, I'm going downstairs. If I don't see you down there in four and a half minutes, I will not hesitate to -"

"I got it." Hermione snapped, throwing the red dress into the pile in a childish fit of despair. "Now please leave so I can change."

Ginny narrowed her eyes in suspicion before slowly exiting the room. Hermione sighed in relief, reaching for her wand to transfigure one of the dresses into something she would actually wear, but it wasn't on her bedside table.

"Wha -"

"Oh yeah," Ginny called through the door, "I took your wand. And the door is locked, so don't even try. Three minutes!"

"Ginny!" Hermione screamed, beating her fists against the door, but to no avail; Ginny had already gone down the stairs.

Grumbling to herself, Hermione sifted through the pile of dresses on the floor, trying to find something that wasn't skin tight and covered in glitter. She finally found, at the bottom of the pile, a presentable, _almost _modest dress. It was strapless with an empire waist, a shimmering band just under the bust, and tulle down to the knee. The only problem was the color.

"Why on earth do you own this, Ginny?" Hermione wondered aloud. The dress was a bright orange, the band black; it was Halloween gone bad. Without her wand, she couldn't change the color, and there wasn't anything else she particularly wanted to wear, so she sighed in defeat and peeled off her pyjamas. She realized she hadn't even had a shower, and pulled at her hair in frustration, letting it fall around her shoulders. She dug through the pile some more and found a tan strapless bra; she hooked it around herself and pulled the dress on over her head. One look in the mirror, however, and she did not like what she saw. She looked like a rotten pumpkin.

"No, no, no...hmm."

She dug through the pile once more, and pulled out a stunning emerald dress that she knew would complement her lightly tanned skin. She checked the clock on the wall, noting that she had thirty seconds to get downstairs. She yanked the dress on, ran her fingers through her hair, and sprinted for the door before she realized she was missing shoes.

"Bloody hell!" she hissed, and picked up the beaded bag, praying that there was something in there -

"Really, Ginny? Really?" Hermione shook her head in disbelief, shoving the shoes on her feet and heading for the door. She was going to kill Ginny Weasley, she really was.

* * *

"Oh Hermione! You look fantastic! Interesting choice." Ginny raised her eyebrows in amusement, shaking her head. She handed Hermione her wand, and Hermione snatched it away, glaring at everything in sight.

"We have to floo there - Merlin, your hair!" Ginny shrieked, causing Hermione to jump and stumble in the heels she wore. She stood there, muttering dark things under her breath, as Ginny pushed and poked her wand through her hair, and finally moved it over Hermione's face, applying some light makeup.

"Ginny, I -"

"Hush. I'm not finished."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest, chanting in her mind.

_She's only trying to help. She's only trying to help. _

"Hermione. Look in the mirror."

Ginny held up a hand mirror, and Hermione had to admit, she was impressed. Her hair was down around her shoulders, but it wasn't the usual bird's nest; it fell in golden waves, charmed to be completely frizz-less, and there were dozens of small, diamond studded clips that shimmered when she turned her head. Her eyelids were coated in light brown, her lashes long and seductive, and her lips were slightly glossed.

"Yeah yeah, you look great. Now let's _go, _we're late already. We have to floo there."

"Ginny, really, I don't want to go! It's just, I -"

"In!" Ginny shoved Hermione into the fireplace, and Hermione glared at her before snatching a handful of green powder and shouting, "The Leaky Cauldron!"

* * *

The party was in full swing when she arrived, although she was only seven minutes late. The fourth floor - secret floor - of the Leaky Cauldron had been decorated to look like a muggle nightclub, with colorful lights everywhere, and a giant disco ball in the middle of the ceiling. Hermione was rather taken aback at the sheer volume and amount of people - hadn't she told Ginny she didn't want a huge party?

"Hey, Mione!" Ron shouted over the music, approaching her and giving her an enormous hug. Hermione ignore the nickname; she'd always hated it. "Happy birthday! You look bloody fantastic!"

She hugged him back, thanking him, and spotted Harry coming towards them, a big smile on his face. She pulled away from Ron, choosing to ignore that he had held on to her a few more seconds than she'd have liked, and threw her arms around Harry.

"Hey, birthday girl!" He said, squeezing her tightly and realeasing quickly her at the look he got from Ron.

"Some party, huh?" Ron said, putting his arm around Hermione in what she took as a friendly gesture; still it made her uncomfortable. She knew Ron had feelings for her, and she felt bad for ignoring them, but she just wasn't attracted to him. She wasn't really attracted to anyone, really, and she had been ignoring Ron's not-so-subtle advances.

"Er, yes. Although I really would have preferred something smaller. Your sister is mad."

"I'm pretty sure we don't know three quarters of these people," Harry said, chuckling, "But hey, this is a great party."

"Harry, it's been going on for ten minutes." Hermione said, yanking at a strand of her hair. He grinned and winked,

"I know."

He wandered off to find Ginny, leaving Hermione and Ron standing together, awkwardly on her part. She shrugged out from under his grip, and raised her hand to yank on a curl again, finding that she was doing that often tonight, and the party had barely begun.

"You really do look great, Mione," Ron said, grinning at her after he faltered a bit at her obvious rejection, "Do you want to -"

"Hermione."

"Er...what?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, laughing nervously, "Just...I'd prefer if you called me Hermione. Not Mione. I've, er, never really liked that name."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I never really asked if you wanted me to call you that -"

"Really, it's fine, it's not that big of a deal, really -"

" -should have asked -"

"It's not a big deal! Just -"

"Do you want to dance?"

Hermione paled at this, her knees going weak - and not in a good way.

"Er, well, I, um, I'm not much of a dancer, really, you know me, I have two left feet -"

"Nonsense," Ron scoffed, grasping her forearm, "You're going to dance."

Hermione Granger did not take being told what to do well.

"I will _not, _Ronald!" Hermione said shrilly, jerking her arm from Ron's grip, and he immediately began apologizing again.

"Hush!" Hermione cried, "You're driving me mad. Why don't you go dance with Lavendar? I'm sure she'd be more than willing to -"

"I don't want to dance with her, Hermione." Ron was looking at her with such an intense gaze that she started squirming, and her hand came up to yank another curl.

"I - I -"

"Hermione, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now...something serious -"

"Oh, is that Parvati calling me? I really must go say hi, it's only polite! Bye Ron!"

Hermione turned and sped away without a backward glance, Ron's confused and dejected expression burning into her mind. She felt horrible, she really did, but she had a feeling she knew what he had been about to say, and she _really _didn't want to hear it.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stood on the edge of the dance floor, a drink in his hand, his eyes trained on a curly haired witch. When Weasley had approached her, he could see her face over his shoulder, and she looked more than a little uncomfortable. Then Potter had hugged her, and when he had left, Granger had avoided eye contact with the Weasel.

Interesting.

He watched as Weasley put his arm around her, watched as they exchanges a few awkward sentences, and watched as she pulled away from his embrace.

This was getting better by the second.

Then the Weasel grabbed her arm, and they seemed to argue for a moment, before she shouted at him and pulled away from him. When Weasley looked at her, a very serious expression on his face, Granger seemed to panic; Weasley hadn't even finished speaking when she pretended to see a friend, Draco assumed, and dashed off.

What was that all about?

He was going to find out. This was definitely interesting. Not as interesting, however, as being invited to this party. He'd received the invite two weeks ago, and had seriously contemplated not going; however, his curiosity had won out at the last minute, and he had put on his most formal casual outfit and headed for the Leaky Cauldron. The placed looked great, he had to admit, and there were many attractive witches trying to lure him onto the enormous dancefloor, but he really disliked dancing of any sort, and had left many of the witches to go pout to their friends.

"Draco!" a voice called; he didn't even have to turn to know it was Pansy. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he downed the rest of his drink before facing her.

"Hello Pansy," he drawled, and nodded at Blaise; the two were inseperable these days, and though neither would admit to their relationship, Draco knew his two best friends more than he let on.

"This party is so great!" Pansy squealed, "Who knew the Golden Trio could throw such a fun party?" She smoothed down her shimmering black dress. It plunged low in the front, attracting the eyes of many men in the room, and Draco saw Blaise's eyes darting around, making sure nobody came close to Pansy.

Draco nodded but said nothing, and Pansy gave him a warm hug, dragging Blaise off to some other friend. Draco smirked as a random man made a grab for Pansy's rear, and Blaise nearly shoved his wand down his throat. Chuckling, Draco turned around to continue watching Granger, only to have her crash right into him.

_Perfect. _

Oh, how fun this would be.

"Why, Granger. No need to throw yourself at me; you actually look rather ravishing this evening."

He smirked, satisfied at how here eyes widened and she took a step back.

"Wh - what are you doing here?" She stuttered, yanking at one of her curls. She was doing that a lot this evening, he noticed.

"I was invited," he said, raising an eyebrow, "Surely you -"

"I didn't invite you," Hermione said quickly, "Whatever, Malfoy! I have to go, I need to -"

She stopped there, almost as if she was choking on her words.

"To what?" Draco asked, "Run away from your boyfriend?"

"Ron is _not _my -"

"I never said anything about Weasley," Draco interrupted smoothly. Hermione gaped at him, then regained her composure and shot him a death glare.

"Sneaky ferret -"

"Yes yes, ferret this, slimy git that, it's all rather played out, don't you think? Now tell me, why _were _you running away from him?"

"What do you care, f -" Hermione ground her teeth together, catching herself too late. Draco's smirk widened, and he decided to play with her a little more.

"You look good, birthday girl," he said nonchalantly, placing his empty glass on a tray passing by and snatching another one. She really did look fantastic. She wore an emerald strapless dress that showcased her flawless back and shoulders, and was form-fitting to the waist, where it fell in layers that fluttered when she moved; there was a slit up each side that gave him glimpses of her toned legs.

"I'm serious," Draco said, surveying the gyrating crowd. "Interesting color, though," he muttered to himself. Hermione pulled at another curl, and Draco resisted the urge to swat her hand away from her hair.

"You're going to go bald doing that," he snapped instead. She frowned, pulling at it again.

"What?"

"You hair. You keep pulling your hair. Stop it."

"Don't boss me!"

Draco laughed, a loud, booming sound that sent unwanted shivers down Hermione's back.

"You sound like a five-year-old."

"Shut up!" Hermione said angrily, "At least I don't dress like one!"

For the first time that night, she got him to shut up.

"I do _not _dress like a five-year-old," he snapped, "I happen to be dressed so impeccably, I've been getting hundreds of witches offering themselves to me all night. I am a Malfoy, and Malfoys -"

"Yes yes, Malfoys this, Malfoys that, it's all a rather played out, don't you think?" Hermione gave him a coy grin, and he couldn't resist smirking in return as she threw his words in his face.

Was she flirting with him?

"Touche, Granger. Touche." Hermione grinned, finding that she rather enjoyed talking to him; she blurted without thinking,

"Hermione."

Draco raised an eyebrow, taking a long swig from his drink. He finally nodded, and Hermione looked around awkwardly for a moment before Draco spoke up again.

"Then you should call me Draco. It's only fair."

"Right. Draco," Hermione said; it felt odd coming out of her mouth. "Well, I really should -"

"Dance with me."

They were both silent and red for moment.

"Er. What?"

"I just - you don't look like you're having any fun. It's a party. You should..." he trailed off, catching her suspicious look.

"I'd rather not, thank you. I don't dance. I already told Ron -"

Ah, so that was what their little argument had been about.

"...and anyhow, I'm a terrible dancer. Plus, if Ron saw me dancing, and with _you _of all people, he would burst into flames."

"Why do you care what he thinks?" Draco blurted, almost instantly regretting it when she glared at him, venom in her eyes.

"Because he's my friend. I don't want to hurt him."

"Why on earth would that hurt him?" Draco questioned, although he knew the answer. She seemed to chew on her words before she answered.

"He...I think he was going to ask me out tonight," she confessed, reaching up to pull her hair; this time, Draco did swat her hand away. She looked up to glare at him, but the intensity of his gaze took her breath away. His blonde hair fell into his eyes, and she felt a strange urge to brush it away.

"I..."

"Please."

And somehow she found herself being led to the dance floor by Draco Malfoy.

"Merlin," she muttered as he began to move to the beat of the song. He made it look so easy, as if it came to him naturally.

"Just feel the music!" he shouted, "I know you want to dance, Granger! Let go a little, have some fun!"

Hermione pulled at another curl, and Draco reached out and took her hand. She looked up at him, fire in her eyes, as he pulled her closer, placing his hands on her waist and moving her hips. She looked shocked and angry, but it soon melted away, a new shyness taking its place. Draco found her extremely endearing, everything she did, and found himself smiling a little.

Just a little.

"Hermione, I -"

"Shh," she said, giving him a blinding smile. He was stunned into silence as she began to move of her own accord, looking so sexy he could barely breathe; she didn't realize what she was doing to him, and it made her just that more attractive. Dare he pull her closer?

Letting go of everything, Draco took a chance and spun her around, so her back was pressed into his chest, and they moved with the same rythm. She craned her neck to look at him, shooting him a grin, and he smiled back. A real smile. Not a smirk.

A smile.

* * *

Hermione really was enjoying herself. As she danced with Draco, she felt light and free; this was her birthday party, sod it all, and she was having fun!

And then, with one sentence, everything was ruined.

The music was cut off abruptly, and people began groaning, but then the overhead lights came on, and someone's voice filled the room.

"Hermione Granger, would you please come onto the stage?"

The entire room went silent for a moment, before a spotlight - a bloody _spotlight - _found her in the crowd, and the next thing she knew, she was being pushed, away from Draco, and towards the stage, where Ron stood, a big smile on his face.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione whimpered, stumbling up the steps and onto the stage. She was standing there, in front of everyone, in _stilettos, _and Ron was about to ask her -

"Hermione Jean Granger," Ron's voice, still booming through the room, sent a nervous thrill down her spine. "Ever since fourth year, when you shouted at me for not noticing you were a girl, I have been besotted."

Harry and Ginny stood on the floor right next to the stage, their mouths hanging open; apparently this was a surprise for everyone. Hermione searched the crowd desperately for Draco, and spotted his blonde head. He looked angry; no, he looked absolutely _livid. _

"Ron, I -"

"We survived the ball, we survived the war, and most importantly, we survived N.E.W.T.s," Ron joked, earning a few chuckles. "And I have never met a more smart, charming, beautiful, passionate woman in my life. Hermione Jean Granger, love of my life -"

Love of his - what?

He was kneeling. He was pulling out a box. And she _couldn't breathe. _

" -will you be my wife?"

_What?_

"What?" Hermione blurted. Ron's smile faltered a bit, but he hitched it right back up.

"Ron, I - we - it's -"

She wasn't even looking at him. She was looking at the blonde man, who had turned, and was making his way through the crowd, and -

Out the door?

Oh Merlin. This was wrong. This was all wrong. And Ron was still waiting for an answer! _Merlin!_

"Ron, I - I'm sorry, but, I - we're not even dating!" she cried, trying to keep her voice down. "I can't...I can't. I'm sorry."

Silence.

Silence.

Agonizing silence.

_Say something, Ron! Anything! _

"Why?"

_Oh shit. Anything but that._

"Ron, I -"

"Is it because of him? Is it? I saw you dancing. You wouldn't even dance with me!"

He was shouting now. He was angry with her. _He _was angry with _her? _

"Don't you dare raise your voice with me, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione snapped, "We aren't even dating! We're not together! What made you think I would say yes? You asked in front of all these people - is that why? Because you assumed I would say yes, just to make you feel better? So I wouldn't embarrass you in front of everyone?"

He said nothing, just opened and closed his mouth, proving her correct.

"I'm sorry, Ron. But that is just - just - I can't believe you - mmph!"

And now he was kissing her. Oh dear Merlin, he was _kissing _her.

She shoved him off of her, fury racing through her veins.

"What is the _matter _with you?" she cried, beyond livid. "You have got a lot of nerve, Ronald Weasley! I want you out of my sight!"

_"_Mione, look -"

"_Don't call me that!" _

And now she was crying. Bloody hell, he'd made her cry.

And the next moment, she was running.

* * *

Draco slammed his fist into the wall. He stood in the small hallway leading to the toilets, and Merlin was he furious.

Fucking hell.

Why, though? Why was he so damn angry?

She was beautiful. So beautiful, caring, loving, passionate, fiery, infuriating, intelligent, witty, kind -

And she was running toward him.

"Oh!" She cried as they collided for the second time that night.

"Merlin, Granger, are you trying to kill me?" Draco said, feeling a smile form on his face.

"What have I done? What has _he _done?" she was muttering as she righted herself.

"Granger -"

"We weren't even dating! And he had the nerve -"

"Granger -"

"- to ask me in front of all of them! He didn't even -"

"Granger -"

"WHAT?"

Bugger.

"What do you want, you complete tosser? Do you want to make me feel even worse? Do you want to throw salt in my wounds? Do you want to tell me the stupid mudblood couldn't -"

"SHUT UP!"

Well. This was awkward. Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. When he opened them again, her eyes were wide, and she had just finished yanking on her hair.

"Granger. Would you shut up a minute and use that over-sized brain of yours?"

"I...I'm sorry. You're right. You've been nothing but nice tonight, and I - I'm just -"

"Why aren't you in there, celebrating your bloody engagement to the Weasel?"

Hermione glared at him, stepping forward so she was nearly pressed up against him.

"If you had stayed, you would have seen me say no to him."

And more silence.

"You...you said no?"

"Yes. I said no."

Draco stared at her, his mind working furiously; he had no clue what to say, and it seemed, neither did she. They were both at a loss for words. Pretty soon, though, she would start talking again, and it would be impossible to make her shut up. And while her rants were endearing, they were rather frustrating. Her pink lips would move and move, and her voice would float through his mind; he wouldn't pay attention to a word she would say, and he would probably get slapped.

Or worse, chastised.

He couldn't have that. No, He definitely could _not _have that.

And so he kissed her.


End file.
